BLACK WINGS Chapter 5- Time Decay by Justin Anderson
June 22, 2002. Buffalo, New York, 10:12 AM "Wow, this place smells...." The flashlight shone off the dark recesses of this long forgotten building. The walls showing age, with the paper long peeled away and holes rotting through. The wiring shot, the windows boarded up. Rather well. Someone wanted the lights kept out of this place. Shoving a closet door open, the smell almost overpowered police officer Jacob Denton. Nothing could describe it, short of the smell of something long dead. The the light found a small shelf, placed so high it was almost invisible against the ceiling. Reaching up to investigate, a small slip of paper came out of the crevasse. It was stained yellow. Drawings covered it, but nothing seemed to mean anything. Making his way into the remnants of the living room, he almost tripped over something. The flashlight revealed an old vacuum cleaner hose, stretched out. It looked to be a rather old model. 'Man, is it DARK in here!' He tried to open one of the windows, but it was no good. The boards over the window were on too tight. He tried knocking some off from the inside, but they would not give. Giving up, he moved to another closet. It slid open with ease. His eyes widened far as he saw what was inside. "Help me! HELP! GET IT AWAY!" He ran screaming from the house, his partner barely jumping out of the way. Officer Denton writhed on the ground, babbling. "Jake! Calm down! What happened?" his partner asked. "BOBBY! RUN! It's horrible! It... *hack*..." He began coughing severely, spitting up blood. People began to gather in a small crowd. Reaching the cruiser, he called in for an ambulance. Running to the door to investigate, he found it shut and locked. Washington, D.C., The Pentagon, 10:30 AM "Now, hold on, Charlie.... repeat that last part again," General Robert Peterson said, scribbling down notes. "All windows boarded up securely... no light whatsoever inside. Okay... and this piece of paper? I see... what about the officer?" He jotted down more onto his note pad, listening intently. "That... hmm... I'll get back to you later. Thanks, Charlie," he said, hanging up. He tapped the pencil against his teeth gently, considering the information. Finally, he grabbed the receiver and pressed the auto-dial. "Yes, this is Robert Peterson. Get me Agent Henry Johnson immediately. It's an emergency!" 10:47 AM Agent Johnson entered the small office, taking a seat. "Agent, we have a small... situation up north," the General explained. "Something that your expertise may prove some use in handling. "This small house is a mystery. As of last week, it was a normal, small suburban home. Until the windows were boarded up. The officer who investigated inside is now severely ill. What he did manage to tell us was that this house looks rather old on the inside. I'm having blueprints pulled up, but somehow, I doubt a house can age that fast. Now, there's something else described there. They found it on the officer after he evacuated the scene." Agent Johnson took the report. "A soiled piece of paper? Hmm... could be something. How bad is it?" "They don't know. They said it was as if he was in a severe stage of Ebola. In only ten minutes of exposure... I'm not too happy about this. I want you to take a short trip up there and see what the situation is. But don't enter that house. If there is a virus, or something in there that's this deadly, we can tackle it later with better means, AFTER we learn what exactly it is." 1:02 PM, Buffalo Agent Johnson inspected the boards carefully. Fresh cut, held in place by nails which showed no signs of rust. They matched the house. Nice paint, with fresh siding and kept clean. No cobwebs, no insect nests he could spot. The lawn showed a bit of growth, but nothing horrible. "Officer..." One of the police officers guarding the stretched out plastic tape walked towards the house. "What happened to the residents?" he asked. "Well, we're not sure. Joe and Mary Richards, newlywed couple which moved in three months ago. Rather nice people. They've disappeared, though. Six days ago... well, these boards showed up. Funny, no one saw anyone hammering them down. They just stuck out one morning. And we only got inside the house this morning. The door's hard to open, and we can't get in the back at all. We've tried prying those boards off, but no luck. It's like... tell me, why would the NSA be here? I thought you guys handled other stuff?" "We do..." he said. He continued to eye the house as he walked. "But one of my superiors is taking this very seriously. I want to get someone in there with a video feed. We'll need airtight suits... after what happened to one officer already." "Right... but, we really don't have anything like that," the officer said. "I'll make the arrangements. Meanwhile, I want to examine that piece of paper." 3:24 PM Two men, in sealed environmental suits, inspected the interior, making their way through by night vision in the darkness. The door had been hard to pry open, but it gave eventually. A single cable ran through the opened door, sending out a basic video signal from the headsets each man wore. "Okay... get a close look at the boards over the windows," Agent Johnson ordered. The pictures transmitted back were fuzzy in the artificial green hue, but the decay could be made out. The window boards, and the entire house, looked a hundred years old. "Good. Now, check the nearest closet, and be careful." They examined the open closet, taking note of the small shelf. As they checked it over, something fell. "Holy crap! Get it off!" one man screamed. He shook his arm, the object falling. Bending down slowly, they could see a rather large spider. "Be very careful. Don't get close to it, kill it if you have to." They examined it carefully, watching it, waiting for it to make a move. It never did. "What's wrong? Agent Johnson asked. "Nothing. It's just a dead spider," the second replied. One of them jabbed it with their glove. The body shell crumbled. "All right. I've seen enough. Get out of there now." 5:56 PM "All right... what was SO important that I had to haul all the way up here?" Cletus made his way to the small gathering on the lawn. "You look like hell," Agent Johnson stated. "Don't remind me..." Cletus remarked. Several days of facial hair, combined with the rings under his eyes, indicated he hadn't slept very well the past few days. Agent Johnson had heard about his recent binge on crime, and it showed. "They told you about the inside of that house?" he asked. "Mmmm hmmm," Cletus replied. "Any idea what I'm supposed to be looking for?" "None," Agent Johnson replied. Cletus eyed the front door, scanning the house. It looked rather normal, aside from the boards on the windows. "Okay. I'm going in. Got the night-vision?" Agent Johnson answered, "Got a pair ready. I'll get a suit ready and-" "Screw it," Cletus said. "I'll take the goggles. I have a flashlight and..." He pulled a pistol from his coat, pulling the slide. "Okay. Want a mic to us?" Agent Johnson asked. "Why not?" He entered. The door slammed behind him. He flipped on the night vision, giving himself a clear view. The house reminded him of the old boys home, though much worse. Checking the ceiling over, he didn't notice the vacuum cleaner until he had stepped on it. His foot went right through it. Bending down to examine, he saw the metal casing was so far decayed, it shattered without effort. "Okay guys... this is definitely weird," he commented. He checked the halls thoroughly, moving towards a door. He opened it to find the remains of a skeleton, so far gone, only bits remained. "GUYS! I thing we found one of the missing couple. Or, what's left." "What did you find?" came the response. "What's left of a skull... some ribs, maybe some chunks of spine and other assorted bits... in a hall closet. Definitely decomposing for a while," Cletus answered. "You sure? They only went missing a week ago," Agent Johnson said. "How the hell do I know? But if the rest of this house went that fast, what'd you expect? I'm going to try to find the basement," he shot back. He passed the kitchen. The table had fallen apart, the door had fallen off the fridge. As he walked, he noticed something missing. "I've noticed there aren't any cobwebs... this place should be full of 'em. No mice or rats, either," he said. "No bugs, no noise..." Spotting another door, he tried to open it. It wouldn't move. Two claws sprouted from his right hand, tearing the door apart. He'd found the basement. "Turning off mic transmission a sec," he said. Flipping a small switch, he removed his goggles and investigated the stairs with the flashlight. 'What do you think?' he thought. The symbiote, merely thinking, replied, 'I think we'd fall and hurt ourselves... those steps don't look like they'd hold anything' 'Figures... what about that pipe? Tendril?' 'That pipe would probably go the way that vacuum did. Check the wall,' the symbiote responded. He knocked. It seemed fairly solid, considering. 'We'll stick, then,' he replied. Climbling along the wall, he landed safely on the concrete floor. Returning his goggles, he checked the area. His mic flipped back on as fast as he could reach the switch. "Found the second body. Same as the last. This one's in the basement," he said. He scanned the rest of the basement. Junk remained. Some of it has rusted solid, some had crumbled into piles of debris. "Huh?" He looked around quickly, swearing he'd seen something move. Nothing. He made his way to the bones, eyeing them for any signs of how they died. The movement caught him again. He was halfway prepared this time, searching for anything that may be moving. A blur passed again, this time, followed by a webline. The line hit the wall, splattering into a fine coating. But, it caught nothing. It was then he began to lose his view completely. The night vision was dying on him. "The night vision's out, using the flashlight," he said. "WHAT? That had a fresh battery!" Agent Johnson shouted over the headset. Pulling the goggles off and tossing them aside, he turned the flashlight on. The goggles, from what he could tell, were falling apart. "Okay, I'm freaked out now..." Something moved, again. He shot a stream of webbing, coating most of the basement in the process. He'd hit nothing. "Guys... there is SOMETHING down here!" "Get out now! We'll-" He lost the audio. Throwing down the headgear, he saw it shatter. "Your life..." a voice hissed. He spun. He'd heard something, he knew it. 'Cletus...' the symbiote said. 'Yes?' 'Shall we?' it asked. 'Yes, we shall. NOW!' He jumped, hanging onto the wall and throwing himself towards the basement door. His foot hit the top step, the board cracking under him. A quick tendril drew him into the hall. Bolting towards the door, he stumbled as something hit him. "You... can't drain... GET OUT!" Agent Johnson and several officers jumped as Cletus flew out the door, screaming. He hit the street outside. "What happened?" an officer asked. "Well... something's inside that house," he replied. "It's fast, it can talk... and it threw me out." 6:40 PM "This keeps getting worse, I can tell. Okay, what'd you find out?" General Peterson has only just arrived, clearly not happy. "Whatever's in there either moves incredibly fast, or... the place is also completely dark inside. Everything's rotten. I think whatever's in there hates light, too," Cletus answered. "Good, Cletus.. so, we open that house up," the General said. Cletus remarked, "Fat chance." Cletus walked to the side of the house, Peterson following. "It's like the outside of the house is rock solid. We tried drilling, nothing. And some of those window boards are held on by screws, but they won't come out. They think the screws were jabbed into the wood like the nails. But..." "Yes?" the General asked. "The inside of that house is rather soft. I could try punching through from there... but I don't think we have anything for the job. Bullets might lodge in, and something slow.... plus, we have these houses around the site. Besides, it's almost dark," Cletus explained. "Hmm... I may have an idea. We'll keep an eye on this place overnight. Tomorrow morning, we'll try something. We just need the right tools." June 23rd, 10:10 AM The sun was bright above, perfect for the operation about to unfold. The house had proved no problem overnight, but everyone was eager to find out what had happened to this place. "SIR! Just got the local weather report. They're reporting rain. What do you suggest?" a private aked. "I suggest we go ahead as planned. If it rains, we can pull back until later. Cletus needs that sun, and we don't have a lot of time... speaking of which..." A large truck pulled up the road, rumbling the houses along the street. Stopping, two men jumped from the back. They unloaded a large case. "Cletus!" General Peterson shouted. He ran to the truck, eyeing the metal case. It opened to reveal a rather large gun. "The HK-452, antitank cannon. Or, as I like to call it, the crater maker. Newest off the line. It fires vibranium shells. You familiar with it?" he asked. Cletus replied, "no." "Vibranium absorbs vibrations, making it a useful shock absorber. And as a bullet, it'll go through everything but adamantium. Vibranium has a flaw, too. Once it absorbs too much, it explodes. This gun vibrates the metal to the point that it almost always explodes when it hits a hard target. If these don't go through those walls, nothing will." He picked it up. It was shorter than an average assault rifle, but much larger. The laser sight under the barrel would prove useful. The gun was also clip loaded, with a fresh clip already inserted. Three more loaded ammo clips sat in the case. It wasn't very heavy for a gun that size, either, he noted. "Each clip only holds three shots. They need a lot of padding to keep from going off. And this pretty much represents all the vibranium shells we have right now. We'll keep in radio contact, let you know in case something's flying overhead. Remember, fire upwards only. You have a pistol?" he asked. "Yeah... probably wouldn't do me any good against whatever's in there, but what the hell?" Cletus said. He adjusted his mic headset, grabbing a pair of night vision goggles. Stepping up to the door, he found it wouldn't open. Ramming into it with full force, it smashed inward, landing him on the floor. The door slammed shut behind him. He turned his goggles on. "Looks like a good place to start..." Raising the barrel of the weapon to the ceiling, he took careful aim. Something was there, however, and distracted him. Something was moving around, watching him. He focused again on the ceiling, only to lose his aim as something grabbed the barrel. He wrestled against the pull, fighting something. Tendrils flew forward, swiping madly, but hitting nothing. Tearing free, he pointed forward, in anger, and fired. The shell splintered the celing, through the roof, a circular beam of sunlight cutting into the room. Something screamed out in pain. He could hear it backing away from him. He aimed by sound, listening for movement. Quickly, he pointed above the sound and fired again. Light poured down, something barely visible. It had a basic shape to it, nothing more. It vanished into the darkness, but it's cries of pain could still be heard. "This thing definitely hates light. I'm going to fire a few more rounds," he said. "Keep it up," came the reply. He followed the noises, reaching a wall. He decided a beam cutting across the room could be fairly useful. Aiming at the wall, angling up, he fired another shot. The beam cut through the room. By now, the light was bright enough to cast a few shadows. He reloaded. "I.... will... KILL YOU!" the voice shouted. The creature wrestled him to the ground. It could fight him, but he could not fight back. His attacker had no body. He watched as it picked up the gun by the barrel. "Oh, no you don't," he shouted. He knew what was going to happen. Before it could, though, he sprang, his hand squeezing down on the trigger. The hole in the ceiling won him his freedom, and more cries of pain from the creature. But, it was not through fighting him. The gun was slapped out of his hand, hard. It fired as it landed, tearing a hole in the front door. "GODDAMMIT! Cletus, what the hell just-" "Save it!" he shouted into the headset. "This thing's PISSED!" The light was almost too much. He could tell it had run away. Noticing the hole in the door, he had an idea. "You guys bring any hand grenades?" "No... but, we have some C-4, already prepared to go off" Agent Johnson replied. "Pass it through that hole in the door," Cletus said. Taking the explosive, he held it by a tendril. He rose it to the ceiling, finding rough center. He aimed. "NOOOOO!" the creature screamed out as he fired. The shell hit the C-4, setting it off. The explosion tore the roof apart, flooding the house ith sunlight. He was buried in a pile of rubble. "What the HELL just happened in there?" General Peterson asked. Agent Johnson replied, "I don't know..." Cletus pulled himself from the wreckage. Half the house had collapsed around him. The damage done by this creature was evident, even through the damage caused by the explosion. A few men helped him up. "Is it... done?" "I think- WAIT! The basement!" he shouted. He ran to the basement door, bits of hallways remaining above it. The door had fallen in. Light poured in, but one dark corner remained. Something was resting in it. "Laugh now... when night comes, I will merely move on..." "Not likely," he said. His hand shaping into an axe blade, he tore into the wall. The wood crumbled. He ripped into the wall until light filled the corner. "No... NO! IT BURRRRNS! NOOOOOOooooooooooo........" Whatever had been in that corner disappeared, it's scream fading. Notes: Set within the Marvel universe, I will be using my own continuity, mixed with new characterizations for some established characters from Marvel's story universe. These stories are a sequel to my fiction series Maximum Carnage. Cletus Kasady, Carnage, and others are copyright Marvel Comics. Jack Arden, Raicaak, and others are copyright myself. Other characters appearing may be owned by separate parties. I make no claim of copyright on any character I do not own, only on these stories and those I do own. Characters used without permission/not for profit. These are strictly fan stories. Permission to reprint extends to placing this text, unaltered, elsewhere online. It may not be altered, and especially NOT TO BE SOLD, unless Marvel wishes to license this series from me. Black Wings song and lyrics copyright Tom Waits.